


Devil Must Die

by GohanRoxas



Category: Bayonetta (Video Games), Devil May Cry, Final Fantasy XIII Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Demons, F/F, Nudity, Sexual Tension, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:25:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3733873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GohanRoxas/pseuds/GohanRoxas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Devil May Cry/Bayonetta AU] Oerba Yun Fang, the offspring of the union between a human man and a demon woman, has been given a new job. The dark angel Lightning has a plan to bring down Fang's nemesis: Mundus, the self-proclaimed King of Inferno. Now Fang must juggle protecting a dark angel's secret plan to end Mundus' reign with a desire for revenge...and a slowly growing desire for her client.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I've Got a Job for You

**Author's Note:**

> I believe this idea came from seeing the description of a Lightning and Fang story on FanFiction.Net of a demon hunter and a gunslinger teaming up in a Supernatural/Western story. The problem is, when I see demon hunter and gunslinger in the same sentence, I immediately think of Dante from Devil May Cry. At the same time, I was thinking of FangRai. The end result was me combining three or four different things just so I could have Fang as a Dante-esque demon hunter.
> 
> Allow me to explain a few things. This story is a fusion of elements from Final Fantasy XIII, Bayonetta and its sequel and both the original Devil May Cry series and the DMC reboot by Ninja Theory.

The fat man was flipping a coin and humming to himself as he walked through the dilapidated street. Why the hell anyone would be willing to live here was beyond him. Then again, who was he to judge? He lived near a graveyard, for God’s sakes.

Being a reformed mobster was hard sometimes. Other times, it helped him out. At least he had experience burying and burning bodies from those days, and that kinda thing helps an undertaker, right?

At least the risk of him being the one buried or burned – or being gifted with a pair of new shoes and a boat ride – had waned since he took this job.

Grumbling, the undertaker found what he was looking for: a rather rustic-looking caravan with broken glass lying everywhere. Some kind of music was barely recognisable beyond the metal walls of the caravan. What was the band called again? Frying Pan? Barbecue? Oh, wait… Skillet. Yeah. That was it.

The fat man hammered on the iron door of the caravan. “C’mon, _cagna pazzo_ , you got work to do!”

There was a stirring from inside, the sound of a body hitting the floor…then another. The undertaker arched an eyebrow. _Can’t keep it in your pants, huh?_

The door opened and its occupant squinted at the light of the morning sun.

The fat man’s eyes were wide behind his round sunglasses. “What the fuck?! Can’t you put some goddamn clothes on? I didn’t need to see those! I’m a fuckin’ married man!”

What he’d called “those” were a pair of medium-sized breasts, bared for all the world to see…but only if all the world were willing to walk down a crappy alleyway.

The owner of said breasts was a tall, muscular yet curvaceous woman, her skin a tan shade of light brown, her black hair messy and tangled yet seemingly well-groomed. She had a beauty mark on her chin, below and to the left of her lips, and a black tribal tattoo covered her upper arm.

Behind her, a lanky blonde woman lay still asleep – and still naked – on the floor. It didn’t take much to determine that that was the source of the second noise.

“What is it this time, Enzo?” the conscious naked woman asked, her voice gravelly, the way most voices are as soon as a person wakes up.

Enzo wasn’t even looking at her now. “I’ll tell ya when you put some fuckin’ clothes on and follow me to the Gates, okay?!”

She just scoffed. “Fine.” She grabbed her clothing from the caravan – a black sports bra-like top, a pair of black cargo pants, a sleeveless dark blue trench coat that ran down to her knees and a pair of dark combat boots – and dressed in front of the undertaker, internally smirking all the while.

Enzo had his back turned to the caravan now, his arms crossed, ostensibly investigating a piece of graffiti on a nearby wall, trying to decipher what the hell it said.

The now fully-dressed woman stepped past him, grinning. “You done?”

“About damn time,” the fat man grumbled, standing up straight and beginning to walk, the woman following behind, her hands behind her head.

* * *

The bar wasn’t exactly buzzing when the unlikely duo arrived. Counting them, there were only five people in there, and one of them was the owner. He was busy conversing with two women, one with short dark hair, the other with long platinum blonde.

The owner looked like the most intimidating man alive or dead. He was tall, muscular and had a commanding presence. His bald head was covered in tattoos, and from the looks of his hands they probably curled all over his body. His fingers were adorned with gold rings – some of which had very expensive-looking gemstones on them – and, even though the interior of his bar was dark, he still wore black sunglasses. His brown coat was dirty-looking and a little tattered, but that may have been a trick of the light.

The women were a little different than Enzo had been expecting them to look. It was like they’d swapped wardrobes for the day. The dark-haired woman wore a long red dress and black heels, her thin-rimmed glasses lowered slightly onto her nose as she leaned over the bar. The blonde was wearing all-black: a tank top and tight leather pants. She also wore a pair of boots that rose up almost to her kneecap, with a long heel that could probably kill a man. A pair of black goggles rested on her head.

The man broke off his conversation with the two as soon as he saw the newcomers. “Well,” he said in a deep voice smooth as the beer he served, “look who managed to drag herself out of bed and out of her girls. Oerba Yun Fang.” He looked behind the woman and his face dropped a little. “Oh. You’re here too, Enzo.”

“Gee, thanks for the warm welcome, Rodin,” the fat man grumbled good-naturedly, slumping into a chair and lighting a cigar.

The dark-haired woman at the bar turned and, after looking briefly at her friend, took a rather sultry step forwards. “How is it that two upstanding gentlemen such as Rodin and Enzo know this one, but I don’t?” she asked in a low, British-accented voice.

“Most of the time I’m taking the jobs no-one else will,” Fang replied, her own Australian accent making her words a bit of a sarcastic drawl.

The blonde’s eyebrow arched. “Implying that people like us are too good for your line of work?” Her accent was similar to her friend’s, but it had a French lilt to it.

Enzo kicked his feet up onto a table, somehow ignoring the hellish look Rodin shot him. “What the fuck is this? An accent convention? Can we get the introductions over with and let me explain Fang’s job already? My kids are expecting Easter eggs.”

“Shut up, Enzo,” everyone else in the bar said at once.

Rodin chuckled. “I suppose he has a point, as much of a fatass as he is. Fang, meet Bayonetta and Jeanne, the last surviving Umbra Witches. Bayonetta, Jeanne, this is Oerba Yun Fang, demon hunter.”

The two witches seemed to tense a little at the term “demon hunter”.

“Relax,” Enzo chimed in expansively, “Fang only goes after those motherfuckers that follow Mundus, not your side of hell.”

Bayonetta and Jeanne relaxed visibly and stepped forwards, the two of them circling Fang. “She’s rather impressive, isn’t she?” Bayonetta purred.

Jeanne made a noise that might have been agreement. “She’s not bad. Although…I sense something I wasn’t really expecting in her. Ragnarok.”

“Ragnarok?”

“You likely don’t remember, Cereza. Ragnarok was a follower of Sparda, the dark knight who rebelled against Mundus and fell in love with a woman. Seems Ragnarok did something similar. She fell in love with a man.”

“And Mundus killed them all. Sparda, Eva…Ragnarok…Dad…” Fang kind of trailed off, the sadness just barely obvious behind it all.

“Well…” Bayonetta – or was it Cereza, like Jeanne had said? – murmured to herself, “I suppose that explains why you hunt Mundus’ demons. Revenge for your parents.”

“Partially. The other reason is just because those arseholes need to die. Plus, I get paid for it.”

The witch laughed. “Fun and profit? I could certainly get behind that.”

“So Enzo,” Fang said then, hoping to get to the point. “What’s this job you’re offering?”

“Well, the underworld contacts I get through Rodin gave me somethin’ I wasn’t really expectin’.” The fat man stood up and put his cigar in a glass. “Seems like Mundus is makin’ a move on the human world.”

“And possibly Purgatorio as well,” Rodin added. “If Mundus’ demons take that, we’re all fucked.”

“And why does this have anything to do with me?” the huntress wanted to know.

“History’s repeatin’ itself, you could say. A follower of Mundus is willing to betray him. She just needs someone to protect her and cause a distraction while she works Mundus from the inside.” Enzo took a swig out of the drink on the table, completely forgetting he’d put his cigar out in it. He began to choke on the combination of ash and spirits, much to the bemusement of Jeanne and Bayonetta.

Rodin took over at that point. “She’s a dark angel, not something you see every day.”

“A dark angel?” Fang tilted her head, confused.

“A being from Paradiso that gets too close to the powers of Inferno is cast out and called a dark angel,” Jeanne reported. “The stories say that a dark angel was the first Umbra Witch. They have powers similar to us, but they have no contracts with a familiar demon, nor do they use their hair as a weapon as we do.”

“Her name’s Lightning,” Rodin continued, “but when you meet her it’ll be under the name Claire. You two will keep in contact now and again to make sure her plan is coming along nicely.”

“I’m gonna need my weapons, you know,” the huntress said with a little smile.

Rodin chuckled, one eye glinting red behind his sunglasses. With a click of his fingers, the wall of alcohol behind the bar became a wall covered in many types of weapons, modern and otherwise. Rifles, shotguns, katanas and halberds all in the one place. It was a weapon aficionado’s wet dream.

Three things caught Fang’s eye. A longsword with a dagger-blade on the pommel and a pair of pistols; both guns were black, but were inscribed with words in some demonic-looking language.

“There we are,” Rodin smirked, getting the weapons down. “Highwind and Gran Pulse. I kept ‘em in good condition, so there’s no need to worry ‘bout the guns jamming or the blades being blunt.”

“Never doubted you for a moment, Rodin.” Grinning, Fang belted the sword onto her back and holstered the twin pistols on the custom holsters on her pants. Once that was done, the huntress turned towards the door. “Thanks for everything, all of you. Even you, Enzo.”

The fat man had recovered from his choking fit and now just gave Fang a look.

“Good luck,” Bayonetta smiled. “Don’t get yourself killed. I think I might look you up when this is all over.”

The dark-haired woman didn’t seem to notice the jealous glint in Jeanne’s eyes at that comment.

Fang winked over her shoulder. “I hope you do.” With that suggestive little comment, she walked out the door.


	2. The Client

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fang finally meets her client: Lightning, the dark angel, who begins to lay out her plan to bring Mundus crashing down. Unfortunately, they're interrupted by rampaging demons, and enough of them to overpower even Fang. Luckily, someone on the sidelines is willing to help.

Fang sat with her legs up on an unattended chair, taking a quick swig of her beer. Man, was she lucky her client had chosen a place that sold beer as well as tea and coffee. She wasn’t really an alcoholic, per se, she just preferred booze over tea.

Her sword was leaning on the fence that seemed to double as a garden, and she could clearly sense the fact that the people around her were uneasy seeing the weapon. Well, in a world where weapons mean terror, you would too, right?

She suddenly felt a pressure on her feet and she squinted up at the roof, confused. When she looked back, there was a woman sitting on her feet.

Quite literally the most beautiful woman she’d ever met, too.

Her hair was a light pink and curled over one shoulder, revealing an earring shaped like a dagger in her right lobe. Her clothing was all black, save for a tiny white stripe on her V-neck top. The leather pants she wore made no mistake that she was quite leggy (and had a nice ass, Fang mused privately), but, much like Jeanne a day or so before, her heels looked incredibly sharp and potentially deadly.

Fang blinked as she looked the woman up and down and suddenly noticed a glint near this strange woman’s stomach. It was a diamond stud in her navel.

“Done staring at me?” the pink-haired woman asked, her quiet voice laden with humour.

The huntress swung her legs down off the chair and gave the woman a serious look. “Claire, I presume?”

Her client chuckled. “Fang, I believe,” she returned.

“Stop that,” Fang drawled, not serious. Then she paused before asking a burning question. “Did you just appear out of nowhere, like on that _Angel-Touching_ show?”

‘Claire’ laughed, the sound like the peal of a silver bell. “It’s Touched by an Angel, and no. I just walked up while you were looking up at the roof.”

Fang let out a grunt of amusement. “Too bad. I was kinda hoping that you’d just popped in, what with you being a dark angel.”

The pink-haired woman’s smile twitched downwards once, as if she didn’t like the label. “No such luck for you, then.” She moved the collar of her top to the side slightly, revealing a black, wing-like tattoo above and to the left of her cleavage. “ _They_ marked me with this when they cast me out.” The first word was said with plenty of heat, and it seemed to be directed skywards.

Fang noticed immediately that this was a very touchy subject, so she coolly diverted the course of the conversation. “How did you end up with Mundy? And why are you so desperate to take him down?”

The dark angel arched an eyebrow at the nickname, but continued regardless. “Well, when I was cast down into Purgatorio, I just happened to land in a location close to Mundus’ part of Inferno. Mundus thought having a ‘dark angel’ on his side could help him out, seeing as only the combined powers of a demon and an angel can kill him.”

Now it was Fang’s turn to shoot an eyebrow up. “How do you know that? It’s not like that’s necessary for any other demon.”

“It’s because of his position in the underworld. As a King of Hell – self-proclaimed or otherwise – his power is greater than any other demon, meaning he can’t be killed by conventional means. Remember when Dante couldn’t kill him? Even with the powers of another half-demon as well as his own?”

Fang remembered. Hearing that Dante, an acquaintance of hers solely due to the relationship their parents had had before their deaths at Mundus’ hands, had battled and defeated the King of Hell and opened up a business hunting demons, got her interested in being a “Devil Hunter,” as some people called them. And the rest, as they say, is history.

“So by putting you onside, he was trying to prevent Dante or anyone else from getting their hands on you to use you as a weapon against him?” the huntress surmised.

“Something like that,” Lightning agreed. “But I’ve had enough of his…” She trailed off, her face becoming a mask of sadness and an odd kind of agony.

Fang gave her a sympathetic look. “I won’t ask.”

The dark angel gave her a grateful look and was about to continue when the whole world seemed to shudder and go dark. “What…?”

The brunette grabbed her sword and held it idly. “Looks like the whole ‘covert’ part of your covert op just went out the window, Lightning.”

Pink eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t…why did you call me Lightning?”

“Because Mundus has been listening to our every word.” She jumped over the nearby fence, her sword balanced on her shoulder. “Haven’t you, Mundy-boy?” she shouted at the sky.

The blue sky suddenly went red, a sullen, angry colour, and visible red barriers blocked off every nearby alleyway. No escape for anyone now.

Black and red tendrils rose from the ground, and with them came things out of a bad horror movie. Creatures that resembled scarecrows shambled along the street, their hands and feet replaced by blades. One of them stared directly at Fang, its head rolling in a circle like it was in _The Grudge_.

The huntress didn’t even bat an eyelid. She just pulled out her pistols and fired at the thing, the equivalent of an entire magazine – each – being unloaded into the scarecrow’s face.

But all that did was send it reeling. When it stood back up, the bullets fell out of the plastic-looking, demonic face and it charged.

Quickly putting her guns away, Fang grabbed Highwind off her back and swung furiously at the demon, the blade moving quicker than one might expect, considering its size.

Behind the fence, a still shocked Lightning was watching the huntress battle Mundus’ demons, surprised by her prowess. Dimly, an image began to form in her mind. An image of herself and Fang standing over the broken, bloody remnants of the King of Hell, their eyes locked, demonic blood spattered all over the place. The image changed suddenly, the gory scene being replaced by a completely different one – one of Fang pushing her face-first into a wall, her hand beneath the tight leather of her pants, teasing…

The dark angel snapped back to reality, her face flaming. Where the hell had that come from?

As soon as she came back to the world, Lightning saw Fang being hard pressed by the scarecrow demons, surrounding her, one looking like it was going for the kill. Plenty of demonic corpses littered the streets, evidence enough that Fang had kept fighting – and winning – until the numbers game had caught up to her.

One of the demons had been twitching with anticipation, and now it leapt into the air, its scythe-blade hands raised, eager to taste blood.

Suddenly, an incandescent, massive blue hand reached out and grabbed the demon. “Get over here!” a man’s voice shouted as the hand retracted, pulling the creature away from Fang.

While Lightning didn’t see what happened to the demon – she still had a fairly major focus on Fang’s plight – she did see its two halves sent flying into the wall. That made her stand up and take notice.

The hand had seemed to come from this man she saw now – a silver-haired young man with a long coat, made of shades of blue and red. In one hand he held a rather interesting-looking sword, while the other…the other was red with glowing blue fingers and thumb. The hand itself was demonic.

This man…this man, much like Fang or the briefly-mentioned Dante, was half-demon.

Behind him, a rather pretty woman garbed in white placed one hand on the man’s own, the hand that contained his sword. “Be careful, Nero. Okay?”

The man let off a quiet chuckle. “I’ll be fine, Kyrie. I promise.” With that said, he rushed forward, seemingly propelled by his sword, and launched into the fray, cutting his way to Fang.

When some of the demons on this Nero’s side were cut away, Fang managed to free herself from the accursed things. When she straightened, she looked at the man, then at his demonic hand. “You too, huh?”

He smirked. “You could say that. Now, are we gonna just stand around, or are we gonna kill some demons?”

“Fair point,” the huntress smirked right back, launching forwards.

* * *

After what had felt like an eternity, all of the demons vanished, leaving only Nero and Fang standing there, their swords still drawn. Both of them then sheathed the blades on their backs. The brunette looked at him, amused. “So, how long have you been in the demon-killing business?”

Nero gestured once with his demonic right hand. “It was kinda thrust upon me. Turns out the church I went to with Kyrie…” He looked back at the woman in white, who was slowly walking up to him, a proud smile on her face. “Well, it turned out that they were the bad guys, trying to use demonic power to rule the world. I basically killed a god made from demonic energy, then just decided to go freelance with it.”

“I’d heard something from Enzo about Dante helping bring down a demon-worshipping church. That was you?” When Nero nodded, Fang tilted her head a little and crossed her arms. “So why not work with Dante?”

“He and I hate each other’s guts.” The young man said it with a completely serious face.

The woman in white – Kyrie, Fang reminded herself – giggled quietly and put her hands on Nero’s arm, leaning on him a little. Well…that explained their relationship, she guessed. “Actually, they respect each other, but Nero and he don’t really share an outlook on life, so Nero went solo with his demon-hunting. I help him book jobs from time to time.”

Lightning came running up. “You two are unbelievable!” she exclaimed, shocked at how skilful the two demon hunters were.

“What’s unbelievable is why they showed up in the first place,” Nero mused, wrapping one arm around Kyrie’s waist idly. He probably didn’t even notice he was doing it. Kyrie did, though, and she practically melted into him.

“Oh, it’s believable,” Fang disagreed. “They were after Lightning here. She’s trying to bring Mundus crumbling down.”

“Mundus?”

“The self-proclaimed King of Hell.”

“Nero…” Kyrie reproached. “Before we found out about Sanctus and the others…Credo told us about Mundus and Sparda, remember?”

“Oh yeah. Guess I’d forgotten almost every good part of those days.” Both of their faces looked sad. Obviously this Credo had meant something to both of them.

“Well, thanks for all the help, you two,” Fang smiled, grabbing Lightning’s arm and beginning to pull her away. “If you two know Dante, then expect to hear from him if I need your help, alright?”

Nero nodded, smiling. “You can count on it.”

Fang smirked again, saluted with two fingers, and dragged the dark angel away.

* * *

From a nearby rooftop, a large, muscular man and a leggy blonde were watching the four of them with obvious interest.

“Huh,” the blonde grinned. “Looks like your boys aren’t as good at their jobs as you remember, my lord.”

“Shut up, Lupa,” the man snarled, his head rolling a little. The human form he’d chosen could barely hold back all of his power, resulting in the occasional…irregularity.

Lupa huffed playfully. “I’m only looking out for you, Lord Mundus. That angelic whore and the huntress are after you now. And that young, handsome man…he knows _Dante_.” She exaggerated the name, knowing how much it irritated her master.

Apparently, though, she wasn’t expecting how much it would irritate him this time. The giant man grabbed her by the throat and raised her up, squeezing on her neck slightly. “I understand how much you want my throne, bitch, but it’ll take more than a few taunts to get you there.” Disdainfully, he let her drop and watched her gasping for air. “Besides, they’ll kill you before they kill me. You would do well to remember that. Now…summon Caligula and his hoards. We’re gonna need everything this time.”

“Yes, Lord Mundus,” Lupa fawned in a grotesquely servile tone before standing and disappearing into darkness.

Mundus watched his two targets – the traitorous dark angel and the daughter of that whore Ragnarok – with undisguised hatred and desire. “I’m coming for you both. And nothing and no-one is gonna stop me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have picked up on a few things here and there in this chapter. Allow me to explain them, or point them out if you missed them.
> 
> First: Lightning's trailing off about her relationship with Mundus. Basically I implied that he was abusing her in more ways than one without actually saying it.  
> Second: Lightning claiming only the combined powers of a demon and an angel can kill Mundus. That's a reference to DmC, and how only Dante or Vergil could kill Mundus because they were Nephilim.  
> Third: Nero's intro. Of course, Nero never says "Get over here!" when using the Devil Bringer in the game. I was referencing Mortal Kombat and Scorpion's spear-throw move.  
> Fourth: The appearance of Mundus and his new (albeit reluctant) ally, Lupa. The way I described the both of them was basically referencing how Mundus looked in DmC, as well as the mistress he had in that game. As for her being kinda traitorous, that's both a reference to Arkham and a set-up from a book I read recently.


	3. An Unexpected Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, no more chapter summaries. Those things can be kinda hard to write. I think I spent like ten minutes trying to come up with one for the last chapter, and that was my first one.
> 
> Anyway, this is basically a filler chapter, as well as a way to introduce characters to the story.

If she were perfectly blunt, Fang would have to say that this new job had not started swimmingly. In fact, it had been the complete and utter opposite. Rodin and Enzo had basically told her that this mission was to be largely covert, with Fang watching Lightning’s back (briefly, upon meeting the dark angel, Fang had entertained the idea of watching more than her back once the mission was over).

The problem with that was that Mundus had been watching her the whole damn time, and had already tried to kill them both.

But hey, look on the bright side. At least she got an ally of some ability in the form of Nero.

There was a jerking at her back, and an absolute absence of a forearm in her grip. Lightning had slipped out of her hand. “Where the hell are you taking me?”

Fang grimaced and spun around. “Somewhere we can hide out until Mundus’ eyes get off us, Sunshine.”

“Sunshine?”

“Dark powers, your outlook on life, Sunshine seems to fit, don’t you think?”

Lightning glowered at her. “Is that supposed to be an insult?”

Suddenly, the pink-haired woman’s back was against the bricked wall, and right in front of her, so close she could feel her breath on her face, was her now-reluctant protector. The mental image she’d had during Fang’s battle before – that of the two of them shoved against a wall, doing incredibly dirty things – suddenly came back to her and red began to appear on her cheeks.

“What it is, Sunshine…” Fang drew out the word quietly, leaning into Lightning’s ear slightly, as if she knew what she was doing to her client. “What it is…is my little way of identifying clients.” She backed off suddenly, smirking. “And what it also is, apparently, is a way of making you wet.” She looked pointedly at Lightning’s legs, which were now pressed together like she was holding something back.

The dark angel’s already red face grew darker in shade and Fang laughed loudly before running one gloved hand through her hair, mussing it a little more.

A door opened behind them and a woman’s voice was calling back through the door. “Remember, you promised to take the job!”

There was a muffled response as the door shut behind the woman.

“Always with the goddamn pizzas…” the woman muttered. Then there was a pause. “Fang?”

The huntress turned and saw…well…saw someone who was at once very familiar as well as very _un_ familiar. The short, spiky dark hair and the different-coloured eyes she recognised. What she didn’t recognise was the body those were attached to. The woman Fang remembered was hardly more than a girl, wearing an almost stereotypical schoolgirl outfit, complete with white blouse and a black skirt-like bottom. This woman wore a variation of a men’s white suit jacket, unbuttoned down to her bellybutton, revealing an ample cleavage. Her shorts were the same white shade as her jacket and were _incredibly_ short, revealing long, shapely legs. She had holsters on her hips and a pair of riding goggles resting around her neck.

Fang looked her up and down appreciatively. “Nice new look, Lady.”

She scoffed at the obvious flirtation, but her cheeks became a little pink anyway. “You know I’m not gonna sleep with you, Fang, so you should stop trying.”

“But I only just started,” the huntress whined playfully, grinning.

Lady just laughed. “You’re almost as bad as Dante is.” She looked behind Fang and saw the still-cowering woman looking at her with interest. “Who’s that? A new flame?”

Fang let out a noise that was half-scoff half-laugh. “As if. This is my client, Lightning. “Sunshine, this is Lady, demon huntress and billing agent extraordinaire.”

Lightning winced at the nickname, but waved all the same. She looked at Fang then. “I’m gonna need some new…” She left it hanging, but it was plainly obvious to everyone what she meant.

Everyone except Lady, it seemed. “New what?”

“Lady,” Fang asked then, “does Trish still live in there, too?” She pointed at the building behind them – a building which Lightning only just noticed had a neon sign above the door: a silhouette of a woman, coupled with red cursive lettering that read, _Devil May Cry_.

Lady looked confused, but nodded. “Yeah, she does. She’s out investigating leads connecting to remnants of Sanctus’ cult right now, but she’s still in the spare room.”

“Thanks. I need to talk to Dante, anyway. Good talking to you again, Lady.” She made a stereotypical ‘call me’ gesture and winked.

Lady laughed and blushed again, pushing Fang towards the door. “Just go. Nice meeting you, Lightning.” With that, she walked off, the eyes of both women on her butt as she did.

Unceremoniously, Fang pushed the door open and dragged Lightning inside. The pink-haired woman looked around in surprise.

Inside was a strange-looking office. Adorning the walls were various weapons of all types – swords, axes, shotguns, polearms – and one wall had a bookcase that had tomes of demonic knowledge, various volumes of Japanese _manga_ and the occasional pornographic magazine. A jukebox was blaring classic rock that she didn’t recognise; idly, the dark angel note how dinged the machine looked.

In the centre of the room was a small desk with a large chair behind it. Sitting on the chair was a man who looked like he was in his mid to late thirties, but could easily have been older. His silver hair was fringed over his left eyebrow, and his chin had some dark stubble on it, proof he hadn’t shaved in some time. Lightning noted idly that he was shirtless, and a red crystal necklace rested on his bare chest. He was actually well-built and his chest was completely hairless.

Not that she really cared what he looked like. Especially not right now.

The man put down the slice of pizza he was about to eat and grumbled playfully. “Fang. Finally decided you were gonna succumb to my manly wiles?” He winked playfully.

The huntress put her hands on her hips and smirked slightly. “Don’t get cute. I was just in the neighbourhood and thought I should call in. Oh, and, uh…” She looked at the dark angel behind her. “This one needs a bath and some of Trish’s spare clothes.”

The silver-haired man arched one dark eyebrow. “Do I even wanna know?”

“I’m sure you do, Dante, but I’m not telling.”

Dante laughed and grabbed a red rose that sat in a glass of water on his desk, flicking it around with his finger and thumb. “Shower and bath’s the last door on the right,” he reported, pointing with his other hand at a door behind him. “Trish’s room is directly opposite.” He threw the rose up into the air and caught it in his teeth, winking at the two women, who didn’t react in the slightest.

* * *

The dark angel was rather surprised at how luxurious the bathroom in this place was, considering how shabby Dante’s office had looked. It had mirrors all over the place, was covered in white and black tiling... It honestly looked like a hotel _en suite_.

It was a little disconcerting to Lightning that there was a full-length mirror inside the shower, but she got over it surprisingly quickly. As she rinsed the soap off herself, she looked at the two marks on her nude body. First, the white wings on her shoulder-blades, resting on her back. Proof that she had been born in Paradiso.

Next came the black and blood-red mark just above her heart: the mark of a dark angel. She didn’t dare look at it too long. The sight of either mark often made her sick.

As she left the bathroom and made for the spare room Dante had mentioned, she briefly heard Dante and Fang deep in conversation, though about what, she was unsure. Maybe the demons in the streets? Maybe Nero and Kyrie?

All Lightning really cared about at that moment was getting dry and getting some clothes. Once she got inside the bedroom, she dropped the towel in a nearby laundry basket and went rummaging around drawers and the wardrobe.

In one drawer she found very few pieces of underwear she’d be willing to take – idly, she noted that almost every one of them was a G-string, and not a single bra was in sight – but she eventually found a relatively modest pair of panties and slipped them on.

The next drawer had this Trish woman’s pants. A pair of light jeans caught her eye and she pulled them on with ease. Seems that she and Trish were the same size.

Reflexively, the dark angel went into the next drawer, looking for a top or something…and instead she found a large variety of sex-toys. Vibrators, dildos, even a pair of strap-ons. Her face flaming, Lightning closed the drawer quickly, trying desperately to put it out of her mind.

The wardrobe. Yes, that’s where she should go. Upon opening the wardrobe up, she found primarily various colours of corset-like leather vests, but she did find a spaghetti-strap top. She briefly wondered if that was going to be a bad idea due to her lack of bra, but she needed clothes, so she just grabbed it and put it on.

_Oh crap_ , she noticed suddenly. _How the hell am I gonna leave my clothes with some stranger and never see them again?_ Panicking, she eventually found a pair of shoulder-bags – somewhat similar to a laptop bag – and grabbed one down, rushing into the bathroom and stuffing her own clothing into it.

Composing herself, she began to walk back out when something stopped her. Goddammit, it was another mental image of her and Fang. Only this time, Fang had her bent over something or other and was railing into her with one of the strap-ons the dark angel had found in Trish’s drawers.

“Someone forgive me,” she prayed suddenly, bolting back into the bedroom and grabbing one of the toys, stuffing it into the bag and walking back out.

* * *

A while later, after Fang and Lightning had left _Devil May Cry_ , hoping to find a way to escape Mundus, Dante sat with his feet up on his desk, toying with Lucifer’s rose. “So ol’ Mundus is back, huh?” he mused quietly.

The door opened back up, and in walked a leggy blonde woman covered in leather. “Dante, are you still sitting around here shirtless?”

“So what if I am, Trish?” he replied nonchalantly, sitting up and flexing visibly. “Why? Is it distracting?”

“You wish.” Trish scoffed and walked straight past him, heading to her bedroom.

Chuckling to himself, Dante sank back down into his throne-like seat, putting the rose in-between his teeth.

Suddenly there was a shout from the rooms behind him.

“Dante! Have you been hiding my toys again?! One of them is gone!”

**Author's Note:**

> I should just mention a few more things before I try and keep going with this.
> 
> In terms of where this story could be hypothetically placed within the canon timelines of the Bayonetta and DMC series. Well, it's set after the events of Bayonetta 2 (hence Bayo having short hair and Jeanne's being long), and it's after DMC4 (hence Nero and Kyrie). Consider this having elements of what Devil May Cry 5 would/could have been if Capcom hadn't felt the need to reboot the series.


End file.
